


New Sensations

by samuelbyrnes



Series: Kinktober 2019 [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Bodyswap, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 08:22:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20871137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samuelbyrnes/pseuds/samuelbyrnes
Summary: There was something strange about waking up this morning that Daryl couldn't quite put his finger on. Sure, the pain was significantly less than usual and that alone was strange enough, but there was something else going on. The bed he was in didn't feel like his own, the room itself smelled different, and honestly, it was far too quiet. Something about it sent warning signals crashing through his brain and he was out of the bed before he realized what was happening.For Kinktober 2019: Body Swap





	New Sensations

**Author's Note:**

> *throws hands in the air* What I wanted to happen with this one and what actually happened are two different things, but it works out, so it's whatever.

There was something strange about waking up this morning that Daryl couldn't quite put his finger on. Sure, the pain was significantly less than usual and that alone was strange enough, but there was something else going on. The bed he was in didn't feel like his own, the room itself smelled different, and honestly, it was far too quiet. Something about it sent warning signals crashing through his brain and he was out of the bed before he realized what was happening. He started panicking as he stumbled, a feeling of wrongness overwhelming him. He fell to the floor, scooting around until he felt a wall against his back, curling his legs up and pressing his forehead to them. He ignored any and all wrongness, forcing himself to focus on bringing his panic down so he could figure out what was going on.

Slowly, the panic abated. Just as slowly, Daryl picked his head up and looked around the room. More clear-headed, Daryl finally recognized the room and frowned. What the hell was he doing in Jesus' bedroom? More to the point, how in the world did he get here when he had fallen asleep on the scout's couch last night? Daryl didn't wonder where the other went, figuring he was already out and about like the damn morning person he was. Instead, he decided to try and find out what was wrong with himself, why it felt like his skin was too tight. _Why wasn't he hurting as much as he should be?_

The hands looked familiar in a vague sort of way, but they certainly weren't his own. His were littered with scars, the skin pock-marked with discoloration. These hands had far fewer scars and no discoloration, the palms and fingers rough with calluses. A memory flitted through Daryl's brain, one where these same hands trailed along his body, working him into a frenzy inside and out. His cheeks warmed, but he frowned in confusion. If these hands were Paul's, then why were they now his? He shook his head and proceeded to assess the rest of him, taking in all the familiar and unfamiliar parts. He determined that was not, in fact, in his own body, but resisted the idea since it sounded absolutely crazy. 

People dying and reanimating into bloody-thirsty monsters? Sure, why not. 

Waking up in someone else's body? Totally bonkers. 

Maybe it was just some kind of fever dream cooked up from pent-up stress and frustration. It all felt entirely too real, but sometimes that happened. And if it was a dream, then no one would know if Daryl took advantage of the situation a little. He wriggles into a more comfortable position, already feeling himself getting hard in his pants. Something about it all made Daryl feel more confident, more willing to touch and take. He also doesn't want to seem too greedy or anything, so he gets right to it. He shivers as he takes his cock in hand, groaning softly as he gives a few experimental strokes. The body is more responsive than he's used to, nerves and blood afire as he strokes faster. He uses his other hand to cup his balls, gently tugging as he fondles them. The combination of sensations is suddenly too much, his orgasm crashing through him, spilling out over his rapidly moving hand. He pants through the rush, unable to help the little whining sounds that come out of his mouth. 

As he's coming down, he hears a gentle knocking sound, then another. Slowly, he gets himself up, shucking the pants and wiping himself down with them before finding another pair and putting them on. The feeling of wrongness settles deep in him, but he brushes it off, still sure he's dreaming. As he gets to the door and opens it, he freezes, cold panic rushing through him. On the other side of the door is himself, and once they see him, the mouth draws down into a frown despite the widening of the eyes. 

"I think we need to have a talk," he says. 

Not knowing what to say, Daryl simply nods. It seems like it wasn't a dream and now they have to figure out how to fix it. Hopefully, Paul won't find out what Daryl did before he came knocking.


End file.
